I sort of left out one of my other hobbies which I’ve recently fallen into. Maybe due to embarrassment. Maybe due to forgetfulness, but mostly embarrassment. It’s online dating. And to make matters even worse, I’ve joined JDate, the Jewish dating site. It’s not that I definitely need to marry a Jewish man, that actually doesn’t matter to me. I have just found that I am generally more attracted to Jewish guys. So I figure my odds are greater on JDate, you know? There’s just something about those schnozes and those law degrees that really do it for me. If I do marry and have a family with a Jew, all I really care about is providing for my children…nose jobs. I am the product of a beautiful nose job (if I do say so myself) so how could I refuse my child? I’d show you a before picture but I’ve burned them all, I mean they all burned in a terrible fire. So sad. I’m all for plastic surgery if it’s what you truly want. After a drunken old man once asked me “Polly, want a cracker?” I knew I never wanted a cracker. Or my nose. My parents gave me the best gifts I could have ever asked for. Life and a nose crafted by a Miami Beach surgeon. I owe them so many grandkids it’s not even funny.

I do think there are reasons not to get plastic surgery:

Who are you and what have you done with Baby?

Ruining your career. Jennifer Grey, I’m talking to you.

And I have no words for this one except you’re not supposed to try and look like the girls in Spencer’s pornos. There’s a reason they are in the porn industry and it’s not because they are smart. And also, ew. I guess I did have some words.

There was a point to this post? Oh right, online dating. So yes, I’ve been on some dates, but nothing big has come out of any of them. Friends have tried to set me up as well but that doesn’t always work out. I do meet nice people, but finding that right person for you doesn’t just mean meeting someone nice. What about that spark? I’ve always thought that I would know when I’ve met “the one” or even “the one for a few years.” Maybe I’d have butterflies every time I saw him, or maybe we’d meet at a hospital in Tanzania as we both tended to sick orphans, he being the doctor and I the shockingly beautiful volunteer, or maybe I read too many chick books. Either way I kind of want to hold out until I feel that. Am I crazy? I’m not saying that Dave from Long Island or Matt from Short Hills, New Jersey aren’t my dream guys, but I’d like to think that my fairy tale with a stethoscope is out there. Somewhere… Hell, I’m only 23! I’ve got plenty of time before my all my eggs are gone (went there). So I will continue to keep my head up and be optimistic about all the millions of men out there until I meet my soul mate, or until my membership expires. Whichever comes first.